‘Yes. I’m rather referring to the inevitability of what must come, and hence what alternatives are left to us. Kao Yang is capricious and brutal. What he will do when he has supreme power does not bear thinking of.’
‘I… understand, Master. You are saying that we must consider the case in which the Emperor does not prevail and is…’
‘As the will of Heaven dictates, of course.’
‘Just so.’ Wang hesitated then continued softly, ‘There are those who have already made disposition. Lord Chu was summoned by the throne and has not answered. The Lady Ch’i could not be found when her women begged audience and when Master Sung was sent for-’
‘Rats will always flee before a whirlwind, as dragons will stand.’
‘Some claim that it is better to serve the Wei by preserving their wisdom and knowledge for a victorious return.’
‘This is a correct and worthy conclusion.’
‘Then you will…?’
The Grand Chamberlain faced Wang directly, and in a calm, considered tone replied, ‘I desire you should now assemble the secretariat to gather together the records of the Eastern Wei and this day transport them to Luoyang for safety.’
‘And you, Master?’
With a bleak smile Kuo said, ‘For my own unworthy self there is no other course of moral value before heaven than to stay by the Dragon Throne.’
‘Sir, this is madness!’ gasped Wang.
‘For many years I have served His Majesty and in return he has seen fit to render to me confidences and trust beyond any man’s deserving. It is not within my power to flee while he stands alone to face his destiny.’
‘Then… this is your decision?’
‘It is.’
‘Master – you must not!’
‘My unalterable will.’
For long moments Wang gazed at his lord and preceptor. Then he replied quietly, ‘Very well, Master, I accept it and shall honour you always for the lesson you have taught me. That loyalty has two tails. I have served you likewise, and in the same manner you have illuminated me with your inner thoughts. And that is why, while you remain by the Celestial Throne, I shall stand by you.’
In the silence that followed, the mournful cry of a shrike sounded outside.
‘I go now to prepare the secretariat, Master,’ Wang said after a space.
‘Do send my daughter to me, and… thank you, First-Born Wang.’
‘My Lord?’ Ying Mei rose from her bow and looked anxiously up at the Grand Chamberlain. ‘You called for me?’
‘My devoted yuan kua. Dearest child and warmth of my heart.’
‘Father?’ A chill began to settle. This endearment from her childhood – chubby melon – was always light-hearted and warm. Now there was nothing but seriousness and gravity about her father.
‘I wish to speak to you, my daughter.’
Obediently she sat with lowered eyes.
‘The times are grave and perilous… but then you know to what I refer.’
‘Yes, Father. The usurper Kao Yang at our gates.’
‘Just so.’ A wintry smile appeared and went as quickly. ‘Yuan kua, you always were quick in your intellects.’
‘If you say it, honourable Father.’
‘Now listen to me. I conceive that the days to come in Yeh Ch’eng will not have a happy outcome. I wish you to go with your mother to Luoyang without delay. You will be safe with our household guardsmen. Do you understand me?’
Her face rose to his, pale and worried. ‘Father, I want to know what it is you intend.’
‘That does not concern you, my flower.’
She bit her lip. ‘You’ll remain with the Emperor, won’t you!’
‘My child, I have served the Son of Heaven faithfully until now and see no reason to abandon his presence for the sake of my own convenience.’
Tears sprang and she lowered her head to hide them.
‘Do not weep for me, yuan kua,’ he said tenderly, his hand going out to stroke her. ‘To every man there comes a season – to endure or take pleasure in, it does not signify. The sages tell us that it is a measure of the man, how he means to respond.’
‘Father, I disobey you!’ she blurted.
She raised glittering eyes to his. ‘Can’t you see? With your noble example before us how is it possible for me to go – to leave you here, so steadfast and true! No, Father, we’ll face what comes together, as our ancestors always did. I stay.’
Kuo turned away quickly. When he spoke at last his voice was husky. ‘I have a daughter more precious than a thousand taels of gold – no, ten thousand. It will increase my worries a hundredfold but if you are set in your course I will not try to dissuade you.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nicander choked, ‘So close! So help me, we were so close to… It’s our own fault,’ he went on miserably. ‘We should have got away while we could.’
He and Marius sat cross-legged on the deck, prisoners, their hands bound behind their backs.
The captain’s fears had not been misplaced: pirates had boarded under the cover of the last of the fog and overcome the crew before any defence could be mounted. They’d then systematically ransacked the ship, screaming in delight at the discovery of the treasure.
An island appeared on the horizon and they drew closer then anchored. White beaches overhung with palm trees quite different to those of Arabia, verdant growth and a lazy surf seething across offshore reefs.
The prisoners were manhandled into smaller boats for the trip through the breakers to the calm of a lagoon and then with a hiss of sand they came to a stop on the beach.
They were prodded into the undergrowth and made to take a path which led to a clearing and a stockade.
Inside it was a mire of squelching mud that stank of human waste.
Nicander’s stomach churned.
‘Put up a brave face, Greek,’ Marius growled. ‘Else they’ve won, haven’t they?’
The legionary glanced contemptuously at the other prisoners. One wept, some stared into nothing, trembling and uncomprehending like whipped dogs.
‘Whatever comes, take it like a man. Who quails knows defeat!’
‘Yes, Marius,’ Nicander said, drawing on the man’s strength to rise above his fears and dread.
The gates were swung wide and a fat dark-skinned man dressed in a multicoloured cloak came into the stockade. He paused, grimacing at the smell.
A village headman encouraged him on, then six warriors forced the prisoners to line up.
The man inspected them, feeling a muscle here, rolling back an eyelid there. He chose three – then came to Nicander who looked past the impassive black face, trying not to catch his eye.
He moved on to the next. Marius. He paused… and jerked his thumb with a grunt of satisfaction.
The legionary was taken away, into slavery, head defiantly held high.
Nicander felt a lump in his throat threatening to choke him. He would never see his true companion and comrade again in this life.
The situation beat in on him; Marius was gone and with him the one rock of sanity in this rabid existence.
Then his friend’s strength reached out to him one last time. Nicander clamped a ferocious hold on his emotions. Yes! He would face it like a man. For Marius’s sake!
Wearisome days followed one on another. Nicander came to know every inch of the compound as he paced it out, round and round. He avoided the other prisoners, who had descended into feral bickering.
At one point he found his mind floating, ignoring bodily sensation, taking delight in a butterfly’s erratic fluttering, the regularity of shadows.
In this out-of-world state at first he did not register that coming through the gate was a bruised, bloody but most definitely unbowed Marius.
His eyes focused on the unbelievable sight and then he hurried to him, stopping shame-faced before he gave away his true feelings. ‘M-Marius!’ he cried. ‘You’re here!’
‘Ah, well. Seems I didn’t make a good slave,’ he growled through split lips. ‘The bastard made sure he got his money back, though.’
He bent and stretched painfully. ‘You look in good shape still. Anything happened?’